Playing Adult
by Cold Fire Phoenix
Summary: AU. College is a challenging time in life. Yet when relics of the past start showing up in the present, can you forgive enough to learn? Sakura must, at the cost of losing everything to the same forces which destroyed her life years ago.
1. Lesson One: Listen to the Music

**Disclaimer:** _Naruto_ copyright Masashi Kishimoto 2006 and beyond.

**Lesson One: Listen to the Music**

* * *

She grabbed his hand, pulling him close in a sharp movement more jerky than fluid.

"Calm down, Ms. Haruno. We are learning to dance, not to gut fish."

She gritted her teeth, but smiled pleasantly at the instructor. She knew that. Her partner just wasn't helping. If anything, he looked like a fish about to be gutted. Or at least his eyes held the disinterested, blank stare of a dead fish.

Then again, she _had_ dragged him here against his will.

"Shikamaru," she ground out, smile plastered on, "You could at least try to move like you're supposed to."

"Tch," he said, looking disdainful. It was the damnedest thing, considering he didn't bother to look any other way. "It's troublesome enough having your roommate-"

"Your girlfriend-" she pointed out.

"-My Friend-With-Benefits," he amended, emphasizing the unseen capitals, "Threatened me bodily harm if I didn't show up here tonight." Shikamaru looked decidedly unimpressed. "_Dancing_. So goddamn _troublesome_."

Privately, Sakura agreed. She picked up on the basics fairly quickly, but getting coordinated past that point was proving nearly impossible. "You know I would have asked Chouji if he'd been around."

"Tch." Shikamaru knew as well as she did Chouji would have come along – for a price. He was good natured and easy going, but offering him a decent dinner at one of the better places in town certainly sweetened the deal.

Plus, you felt guilty otherwise. Chouji was simply too... giving to have nothing come back.

Still, this wasn't half bad. Even if Shikamaru looked pained. Sakura forced herself to relax. She was here to learn, she had to remind herself.

Plus... In all honesty, while their instructor was gay, he was also _very_ kind on the eyes. After dealing with a department of older, if distinguished, men all day, it was a nice break. If an admittedly shallow one.

"Okay! People, switch it up – trade your partners, come now ladies, don't be shy, gentlemen – remember yourselves. Smile, everyone – we're happy! There-there, Tsuichi, no need to file your teeth on the new boy – Oh don't tell me that was Tayuya I heard cursing up a storm! SAMANTHA, Samantha darling, please join me here and let poor Darren have a chance with the new kids, yes I know darling, it's so out of date, but sharing is caring they say – distance makes the heart grow fonder and I'll be damned if I don't want to dance as well!"

Sakura wrinkled her nose and patted Shikamaru's shoulder in apology. "Sorry, buddy – rules of the dance floor." She heard his groan at her back as she smiled at the young Caucasian in front of her. She was petite, and Japanese. He looked worried.

"Hello. I'm Sakura." She smiled, non-threatening. The dance instructor's voice was a pleasant murmur behind her.

"David," he offered, flashing an awkward grin. "Nice to meet you. Shall we dance?" He held out his hand, offering to take hers.

Sakura allowed him, and in the poised moment before their instructor called out some rhetorical nonsense and hit play on the old boom-box settled in the gym's corner, she closed her eyes.

College.

What a rush.

And then they were moving, and the only thoughts in her mind were of the rhythms, and the faithful beat of her two feet in tandem with the stranger's on the ground.

* * *

"Temari's going to kill me."

"For what?" Sakura raised an eyebrow. "The tango?"

Shikamaru scowled. "You have no idea how troublesome that woman can be."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am." His eyes looked up into the dark sky, devoid of a moon, appealing unseen gods.

Sakura shook her head, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Temari was her roommate, for sure – still, she didn't seem to be the sort to... Well, suffer needlessly from jealousy. Temari struck her as being very self-assured. "If you insist. Though you only danced with me, and she can hardly fault you for that."

Shikamaru looked unimpressed. "You females..." He shook his head. "I wouldn't be surprised."

The odd-colored red-head snorted in amusement as she hit the button for the crosswalk. "You're a Chauvinist, you know."

"Point of pride," he quipped back, languidly moving across the street as Sakura frowned and waited for the sight to flash white, signaling her okay. Shikamaru was waiting on the other side, one eyebrow quirked up in silent question. She chose not to answer what he hadn't bothered verbalizing.

Their walk back to the dormitories was made in silence.

A stray biker passed them, zooming off in clicking silence into the night. Sakura dug around in her off-shoulder purse for her keys, pulling out the familiar lanyard with a sigh. "Thanks, Shikamaru. You coming up?"

He sighed, briefly closing his eyes and then staring up at the blank face of the building. "Nah. She should be sleeping, and it's more troublesome to walk the extra stairs and dealing with her waking up and being surprised to see me than being bitched out tomorrow." He shuddered, mostly in remembrance of the last time that had happened.

Sakura frowned. "You did deserve that, you know."

He shrugged, walking away. "Eh." With a backward wave, he continued toward his dormitory. Sakura shrugged. He was a nice enough guy.

Though she didn't quite see what Temari found in him – at least _that_ way.

The slight oceanic breeze which cooled the campus at night managed to chill Sakura as she climbed the empty, uncovered stairs. The doors she passed looked in on still-lit halls, a few denizens spilling out in their haphazardly social fashion. Sakura wasn't often tempted, herself. She enjoyed quiet moments of solitude, personally – few and far between. Life had made her silence precious. When there were no outside words, she could listen to the ones she liked to ignore. Pick at old scabs. Hope they wouldn't leave scars anyone could see.

She paused, the fourth story the last in these clustered buildings. The catwalk uniting this building to the next stood vacant, and unlike the halls below, not a soul was in sight. Her eyes drifted out over the courtyard of the quad, into the darkness of the lagoon and the bookstore beyond it, lit up haphazardly this late at night. The mountains in the distance were impossible to spot, fading into the inky sky smoothly. Sakura stared at the invisible point of their divergence, key in hand.

The blinking lights of an approaching aircraft drew her back to herself. She fumbled with the key in the lock, turning and pulling outward, slipping silently into the warmer hallway. She allowed the door to close behind her, soft as it wished. Three doors down, and even walking that far she could hear the life behind the thick, impassive wood frames.

4113. The secondary key was cold in her fingers, sticking in the lock. These may be the newest dorms on campus, but they still behaved like rickety old men. Or was the word she wanted crockety? The door swung open under her hands, jerking her key away as she blinked and found herself staring at her roommate's chin.

"Out late, Haruno?"

"It's only eleven, Temari. Still - I thought you'd be asleep by now." Sakura pointedly looked at her roommate's shirt, a ratty old thing she often made suffer through the washing machine and often wore to bed (it wasn't fit for anywhere else).

"Couldn't. I've a two page response paper due tomorrow on a book that didn't come in until this afternoon." The blonde didn't look exactly pleased.

Sakura shook her head in sympathetic consternation, slipping into their room as Temari moved to the side. The jingle of keys proved Temari's good-natured retrieval of her roommate's lanyard.

"How was dance?"

Sakura slipped out of her shoes, kicking them toward the closet. "_Tiring_." She sighed, flopping onto her bed. "Did you happen to know down comforters are the most heavenly things on Earth?"

"No," Temari said simply, shuffling back toward her desk and the laptop humming happily on it's surface. "But I'll keep it in mind." She sat, yawning. "Learn anything new?"

Staring up at the ceiling, Sakura took her time in replying. "Well..." She sighed and sat up, scooting back so her legs dangled over her bedside. Her feet were privately very happy to be relieved of pressure. "We _did_ learn a bit of tango."

"Oh. That's nice." Temari paused, looking over her shoulder. "Wait. _Tango_?"

Sakura grinned, waggling her fingers at her roommate, and most-times friend.

"It takes two to tango," Temari pointed out, as if the quote had some special merit.

"I'd hate to see three people attempt it, but yes. Don't worry," she said teasingly, "I made sure the only one Shikamaru got close to was me."

"That's supposed to _comfort_ me?" Temari raised her eyebrow, keeping a straight face.

Sakura snorted, standing to move over to her closet. "Even if I was interested in his lazy ass, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your on again, off again sweetheart." She cocked her head to the side. "Though it _would_ stop the sexiliations..."

A pillow hit her in the back of the head and she turned and mock scowled at Temari, picking the pillow up and setting it on her dresser. "Now that wasn't very nice. Mine for the night."

"We do _not_ sexile you!"

"Not often," Sakura quipped back, winking. "And don't pretend otherwise. I'm just surprised you remembered to hang the fan on the door handle."

Temari didn't dignify the accusation with a response, turning to face her glowing monitor. Indignity enough to be a third year housing with a first. Arguing was just not something she cared to indulge in as well.

Sakura was just as glad, slipping out of her clothes and into her night-gown. Already out of fashion in her parent's generation, it was one of the few oddities the young woman allowed herself. Still, as she shrugged into her robe and headed to the restroom, at least Temari didn't feel the urge to pick on her for it.

She returned, finding Temari frowning at her computer screen and mumbling under her breath. Sakura wasn't inclined to inquire for clarification on what exactly her roommate was saying – from past experience, it wasn't exactly pleasant. "Frustrated?"

Temari flipped her the "affectionate" version of the bird, and Sakura shook her head and climbed into bed. "Goodnight."

"I hate you."

"I love you too." Almost immediately upon snuggling under her comforter, Sakura was out.

The next thing she knew the radio was blasting in her ears.

"_You were right in front of me/Now I can see and you're long gone/Forget what everyone told you/My love is lost in time."_

"Will you wake _up_ already? Turn that damn thing off." Temari's sleepy voice cut through the haze of Sakura's awakening, and the younger woman frowned and slammed down on the snooze button. Fifteen minutes would see her up and out the door. Just long enough to allow her an escape before the alarm would pester Temari into actually attending her first class in the morning. Unlike Sakura, Temari lived for the odd period of daylight starting at roughly eleven-forty and ending at sunset. Considering her first class was at nine, this didn't work itself into her natural schedule.

Sakura herself took shortcuts. She slipped out of bed, grabbing her bathrobe and toothbrush. Take care of the little things first, and you'd be ready for the day. Her mother had been a fan of that saying. Still was, in fact.

Temari hadn't moved when Sakura re-entered the room. "Twelve minutes," she piped up, smiling as the lump known occasionally as the Great And Wonderful Ass Kicking Temari (self-labeled) grunted and shifted.

Sakura shifted through her closet and pulled out a pair of clean jeans and whatever shirt looked appropriate for the moderately-overcast day outside. She didn't own much of anything revealing – Sakura appreciated the effect a well formed woman could have on a man, but in college, it was easier to be taken seriously without showing cleavage or thigh. That, she figured, or at least Temari had informed her, was when you _wanted_ something.

Right now, the only thing Sakura wanted was to get to class on time – and stay awake through lecture. Which was a tall order, considering it was History – and American History, to boot.

Slinging her backpack over her shoulders, she plopped the lanyard over her neck and fled into the hall. "Two minutes-" she called over her shoulder, startling one of the other girls in the hall and causing Temari to groan again, no doubt. There was a small smile on Sakura's lips as she flew out the door and down the stairs, locking her hand on the metal rail to swing herself around the corners.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all. The sun was even emerging from behind the clouds as she unlocked her bike and put the kickstand up, wheeling it out backward before straddling it's frame and taking off.

No, today might actually be wonderful indeed.

* * *

Author's Note: Now. I have been out of writing fan fiction for some time. Everything I started years back has been on hold since all that I had written as continuation was lost. That has no real forbearance on anything here. I just felt like saying it.

More pointed note: I welcome flames. I welcome critique. I welcome useless spewage. Not sewage, but spewage. I am writing this as a college setting. What college? The one I attend. There will be points to the effect that these are Japanese students in America. I will write them as American, because I don't think I have the ability to not be ethnocentric enough to understand another viewpoint and faithfully write it. I will be attempting to stay IC. I will be expanding upon what I understand of characters and moving them forward emotionally as I interpret their reactions to events. I will be attempting to involve all characters from the manga series as I see fit – and the relationships are, at large, similar to those found in the manga. Not the same, as this is also AU.

THE POINT being I want you all to argue with me. Your insight and debate sparks interesting thoughts, and I trust you are all intelligent enough to care to see things through.

And no, I don't necessarily sanction many pairings all around, so based on how I see things going, these may or may not happen. "What?" says you. "But you set Shikamaru and Temari up right at the... start." I call it plot device. ;D Or something ludicrous like the rapper. I hope the story is interesting – I don't want to create a forced following based on who may or may not end up with another character.

Because, to spite my one loyal reader (namely, myself), I will pair everyone with everyone in one big "love-fest" if I so choose. ;D Meaning: no expectations going in will be a healthy way of getting good things out. D


	2. Lesson Two: Feel the Rhythm

**Disclaimer:** _Naruto_ copyright Masashi Kishimoto 2006 and beyond.

**Lesson Two: Feel The Rhythm With You Eyes**

**--- **

Fog moved off the ocean, hanging over the campus like a living creature, creeping across the grass and asphalt to pool around the buildings. Sakura drew her coat tightly around her shoulders with one hand, the other tightening on the handlebars. The morning rush of biking traffic was slow, as if the fog had materialized around the bike wheels and slowed their rotation. She shivered, feeling incredibly awake in the crisp morning air. She missed the sun, which had seemed so promising a handful of minutes ago.

She slowed as another student darted across the bike-path, clutching their backpack to their chest. Sakura had seen several accidents already, and this was only the first week of actual classes. According to Temari, "The idiots don't get smarter, they just get faster." Of course, Temari held a similar opinion with most everyone.

The bikes in front of her slowed as they neared the first major round-about on campus. She tensed, knuckles turning white. Adrenaline rushed through her body. A small part of her mind thought this was ridiculous – biking was not a life or death situation. Normally.

She still was hyper-aware. Her eyes were wide, seeming to take in every small detail as she merged, registering the flickering glance a fellow biker gave her before they slowed to cut behind her. She eyed her path, brow furrowing as she felt the sharp edge of adrenaline travel down her spine. She was ready to move – she could see her opening as she rounded the curve. Tensing, she went for it.

Out of the corner of her eye, something caught her attention. _Black hair…_ Recognition hit – just as someone's bike did.

Sakura flew sideways, skidding on her shoulder and feeling her bike slam down on her left leg as her head cracked against the pavement. She heard the squeal of the bike tires as people pulled on their brakes to avoid hitting her, the buzz of voices calling out, "You okay?" and "Dude, did you _see_ that?" _Rubberneckers._ Sakura forced herself to move, glad for the helmet on her head as she pushed the bike off her leg and tried to sit up.

The biker who'd hit her was already gone. She was pissed, even as unfamiliar hands pressed against her back, steadying her. "Are you alright?" The same question, repeated again, though this time Sakura pinned the question to a face and answered vaguely, scanning the crowd for a chance sighting of what, or rather who, had distracted her. Nothing.

Still a bit shocked, she got to her feet with someone's unneeded help, mumbling, "I'm fine," to every question tossed her way. She bent to pick up her bike, noting as she righted it the rear tire was bent awkwardly. She stared at it dumbly for a moment, then frowned.

"They can fix that over at the A.S. Bikeshop." The helpful hands spoke again. Sakura managed to shake off enough of her mental stupor to look toward them, smiling as much as she could.

"Thanks," she said. The bells of the campus tower rang, indicating the ten minute warning to the hour. She tensed. "Shit." She needed to get to class. Realistically, the Professor wouldn't notice if she was absent, but Sakura abhorred missing class.

"Well, hey, if you have to get to class, I can drop it off for you." Sakura looked at him, feeling a mixture of insane hopeful gratitude and distrust. The young man was smiling at her, an open, honest grin that struck Sakura as refreshing on this gray and painful morning. His hair was black – _Not Sasuke's_ – and bowl cut, something she privately thought had gone out of style in middle school. There was something earnest, and frankly, boy-scoutish about the young man.

She found herself smiling in kind. The seconds were ticking by, and he seemed nice enough. Still... "No, I can't have you bother yourself-"

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" He looked off toward the ocean, hidden beyond the buildings, smiling still. "Perfect day for a young man and a young woman's broken bike to become better acquainted." He looked back at her, giving her a thumbs up. "Trust me!"

Sakura wasn't inclined, but she wasn't left with much choice. Unless she dealt with this after class... "...You don't even know me," she pointed out, rubbing her elbow as she realized it was skinned. The bike flow had dropped down, and standing between both lanes as they were, she felt less isolated and caged.

A hand thrust itself in front of her. "Lee Rock."

Conditioned, she firmly shook his hand, blurting out her own name in polite reflex. "Sakura Haruno."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Haruno," Lee said jovially, giving her a slight bow as he picked up her mangled bike. "Registered?"

"Er-" she assumed he meant the bike, but seriously, carrying it was a bit too much- "Yes, but-"

"Number?"

"Well it's on there, I don't remember-"

"Yours," he clarified, nodding his head pleasantly and flashing her a wider grin.

"Ah." Oh. Right. A.S. required those details on registered bikes, lest thieves actively flaunt the system. "Do you need to have me write it down?" She patted her pockets, finding neither a pen nor paper. She could get out her notebook, but that was even more time-

"I take it as a challenge that I can remember it with just these two ears," Lee said, enthused. While she looked at him incredulously, he gave her another thumbs up. It was enough for now. Why not believe in random acts of kindness?

"Eight zero five, five five five, nine three six one. Are you sure?"

He winked. "In this springtime of our youth, it would be my honor!" He winked, and about then, Sakura realized he was flirting.

She prevented herself from recoiling. It wasn't him, it was just... the thought. Even her counselor agreed – nevermind. _Don't read into it_. She smiled; a loose, honest grin. "Thank you." She had to be grateful.

And on time.

Even as she was about to apologize for having to run, Lee had already moved. "Best of luck, Miss Haruno!" he called over his shoulder, making quite the picture as he ran with her bike. She half waved, not sure what to make of everything that had just happened. Her head pounded in agreement.

Well, today was certainly turning out to be interesting. Sakura sighed, rubbing her elbow again and wincing as she looked at her watch. _Shit... I've got five minutes._

Sakura Haruno had never run across campus so fast in her life.

---

She pushed through the double doors just as the professor set his transparencies on the projectors, adjusting the focus to his pleasure. As usual, the seats toward the back of the auditorium were jam-packed, people jabbering and laughing in the prelude to the rapt attention people pretended to pay once the professor would clear his throat and begin.

She sat herself in the front, to the left. Mostly, she would be alone. Sakura found she took better notes without the constant movement people engaged in while sitting "still" for class.

The professor cleared his throat, and for the first time, Sakura registered that he looked different. As he spoke, she came to a startling realization of just how different he was.

"Good morning, students! I am Professor Maito, and I regret," he said, looking honestly saddened, "To inform you that Professor Kanovitch has been forced to take this quarter off. Fear not," he continued, smiling suddenly, "For your education, however! I promise you all, youthful as you are, I, your esteemed professor, will make this class on the intricate history of these United States a dynamic, interactive experience!" He grinned, giving the few hundred stunned students a double-thumbs up.

Sakura had two thoughts pass through her mind. One, Professor Maito reminded her awfully much of Lee. Two...

Men in business suits shouldn't strike poses.

"Dude!" A voice rang out from the back of the room. "Are you gay?"

The professor smiled. "Am I happy? Terribly! Thank you for asking young man." His grin turned vaguely threatening as he gave the rude student a thumbs up. "What might your name be?"

A slight jostling occurred, one of the speaker's friends nudging him until he coughed and spoke up again. "Michael Wilson, Professor Maito."

Maito smiled pleasantly. "I'll be expecting your three page short report on the etymology of the word "gay" and its slide into common slang within the States on my desk Thursday afternoon by five, Mr. Wilson. I look forward to what you have to say." He gave the class a broad smile.

Everyone was silent. Sakura, privately, was a bit awed... and scared.

"Anyone care to volunteer for extraneous research right now?" One kid shifted in his seat. "No? Then let's get started." Professor Maito strode over to the far wall, flipping the lightswitches, dimming the lights in front. The screen flickered to life, and a power-point sat at ready, course requirements in bold black on simple white.

Sakura was fairly certain History would never again tempt her into slumber. At least not with Professor Maito. After he had passed out the syllabus and moved into it's discussion, he'd spotted one student sleeping in the middle of the room. Even now, no one was exactly sure how he'd hit the sleeping student with that water balloon, but no one was questioning much of anything. It was too engaging. Their eyes were glued to him as he paced the front of the room, at times gesturing grandly, others pausing and assuming a pose of deep concentration before bursting into action. The man was fascinating.

"Balloons were invented in England in 1824. In this same year State-Side the United States War Department created the Bureau of Indian Affairs, dealing with an already devastated population. This same year Ambrose Burnside was born – he who would grow up to be one of the many American Civil War Generals. Do you understand the connections? Can you see the amazing vitality in these three separate events?" One of the students shook their head. The professor smiled, regarding his class as a whole. "That's why you're here," he said. "To learn to see."

He made history come alive. Something that was both powerful, and frightening... all in one. Sakura was inspired. His energy captivated, drew them in, demanded. Class ended almost too soon. Students milled around outside, conversing lively and smiling, laughing.

Sakura lifted her head, smiling to herself. She could have joined them.

She glanced at her watch and grimaced.

No she couldn't. Her next class was about to begin. "Will it ever _end_?"

---

"You get used to it after the second week," Temari confided, sliding into the booth in the cafeteria.

"Ah," Sakura gingerly sat, pushing her tray sideways and grimacing. She'd discovered most of her injuries from the morning's 'accident' after classes, when she'd returned to the dorm for the afternoon. Now, at dinner, Sakura looked like shit.

"So what exactly happened, again?" Temari picked at her salad. She had decided to try a diet. Sakura had ostensibly only been living with her roommate for two weeks. So far she'd seen three different "diets". She privately thought Temari was just creating some sort of elaborate ruse to allow the food to maintain a degree of variety and flavor. This was her third year eating on campus, after all.

She sighed. "I was at the round about when someone bowled me over."

"And left you with a bruised forehead, skinned elbow, shoulder, knee and..." the older youth trailed off, making a vague gesture to Sakura as a whole with her hand.

"More bruises than I care to ever remember all over. Did I mention my helmet was cracked?"

Temari shook her head, but didn't look all that concerned. Sakura was here, after all, and likely was as good as she could be. "Welcome to the hell that is bike traffic." Temari gave up on her salad. "What did you end up doing with your bike?"

Sakura's brow furrowed. "Actually, it was the craziest thing. This guy said he'd take it over to A.S. for me, and I didn't get a chance to stop by there before they closed, but..." She shook her head. "It was just insane. You should have seen him run with it!"

Temari raised her eyebrow. "Are you that sure he took it to A.S.? Bike theft is fairly common, and it would be almost too ironic if you'd handed your bike over to a thief with a smile and a nod." She grinned. "At least tell me he was hot."

Sakura frowned. "What? No, I don't think Lee would... " she trailed off, since realistically, she knew nothing about the stranger. Well crap. "But he has my phone number and I-"

Temari's laughter interrupted her. "You gave this kid your _phone number_? Sakura, I never knew! And it being only the first week of classes. You sly dog, you."

Sakura blinked, then frowned, the abruptly shook it off. "Right. No, but I hope to god he isn't interested."

"Really?" Temari leaned forward on her elbows, curious. The sad salad sulked beneath her disinterested frame. "What, is he hideous?"

"No."

"Evil?"

"Not that I know."

"Bad hygiene?"

"He looked perfectly fine." Sakura sighed. "It's nothing in particular. I don't date."

Temari let it slide, and they finished their meal in relative silence, Sakura ignoring the glances occasionally tossed her way for the beat-up appearance she wore like a badge of abuse.

"I look pretty awful, don't I?"

Temari smirked. "Like death warmed over. I bet people wonder what goes on behind our closed door," she teased, draping her arm over her roommate's shoulders.

Sakura laughed, but felt uncomfortable. Temari was hard to read, and to Sakura, that was dangerous. She pushed the dark thoughts that tried creeping into her mind out. It was neither here or now for those remembrances.

She was brought back to the full present as Temari's arm moved off her shoulders. "Shikamaru! Hey!" She was gone, after her not-quite-significant other.

Sakura allowed a small smile to grace her lips. Hopefully, that wasn't a sign of impending sexile. For having only moved in last week, it was already becoming a pattern.

Her keys jangled as Sakura stretched, pleasantly full. Temari would be up eventually – for now, Sakura was better off returning to her room. She was aching, even if the night air was crisp and the fog and cloud coverage of the day had burned off. Stars beckoned above her head, in the moonless sky.

Everything felt soft, poised, collected. She pulled her keys out, her access card falling out of her pocket. She sighed, awkwardly bending her knees to retrieve it.

"You always were clumsy."

She froze, her hand hovering over her card. Her face in miniature smiled up at her, nervous and excited and staring off to the side, as if speaking to some unseen person. There was no excitement in her face now. Her hand trembled as she raised her face.

"Sasuke..."

---

Bleck. End two. I could have lingered, but I want to start from there on the next one. I was going to pull a Kishimoto...

And then he pulled one himself so I got bratty ;D and didn't. Anywho, same old, same old, CC&C.

_**Shout out!**_

**Pookie-Poo**: No – much as in life, our first impressions are not always the most correct. I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter, and I thank you for reviewing.

**Sakura Neji Rules and Kakashi Sakura or Sakura Lee Maybe Even Sakura Gaara**: I feel you have been ambiguous. However, I am free to interpret this ambiguity. Yes, you may join my harem. No, you don't get a pony. Only a pita. I'm on a budget here. ;D

**Leiral**: I am gladdened by your enthusiasm! I hope you continue to be interested, which can be hard at times, I am the first to admit. Things are a midge slow at the start, simply to set scene. Enjoy!

**Jenn Jenn R**: I wanted to thank you very much for your kind words. I've always wanted to set something in college (even back in highschool) because it's a more... interesting environment to work in. Ha! You noted my AN of ethnocentric. Much love to you for enjoying that word! Shikamaru Temari amuse me as a beginning because of how I've set up their relationship – honestly, how much work is Shikamaru willing to put in if he doesn't have to, and Temari, being ahead in school, might enjoy a more loose (if exclusive) relationship. It's also because it allows me to explore one of the odd things about people I've noticed - "friends with benefits". Heh. I hope you continue to read, or at least boot me in the bum if it gets annoying!

**Faint Pride:** Thank you so incredibly much for your review – as I have time tomorrow I'm planning on going over the first chapter, since your suggestions are spot-on. :D Thank you, thank you, thank you! It seems understated but I appreciate it so much.


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